


If you look long enough, it shall look back into you

by lover_of_blue_roses



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Halloqueer, Halloween prompt, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic Mirror - Freeform, Mutually unrequited love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Spooky, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_blue_roses/pseuds/lover_of_blue_roses
Summary: The boys end up hiding away in an ancient hotel as a storm rages outside, but for two of them they will find far more than sleep here.
Relationships: Brian Epstein/John Lennon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17
Collections: Halloqueer 2020





	If you look long enough, it shall look back into you

The tunnel was dark and eerie with only Alistair's torch to light up the passage. At least it was clean and dry, Brian's shoes would have been completely ruined had they been traveling through the sewers, again. Or rats. Brian was sure to screech if he saw one. Beatlemania had certainly made everything far more complicated. Good thing there was reliable Mr. Fix-It to get them out of any jam even if it meant escaping through unpleasant passages. 

That was how they had found themselves traveling through old smugglers tunnels to get to their hotel. It had been said that these tunnels were nearly as old as America itself, first used for runaway slaves and then for booze trafficking. John made jokes paralleling this as their fans saw them as little more than assets they'd like to possess, failing to see their humanity, so in this way the tunnels are being to a used similar purpose. To which Ringo replied he'd rather be an intoxicant, even if it was an illegal one. The boys all laughed at this.

This was good. Despite their desperate and literally dark circumstances, the boys remained as upbeat and cheerful as ever. It was not just them in this tunnel, there was also Alistair, Neil and Mal but they were quiet, serving as little more than glorified pack mules for their luggage. It was a good thing the boys packed light and that their instruments were on their bus. 

Brian stumbled, far too focused on the laughing men and their eerie distorted shadows on the wall to watch where he was going. "Now, now, can't have you ruining that pretty face of yours," John laughed as he hooked his arm in Brian's, like Brian was a maiden being escorted. Brian knows it's just a lark, the kind John often does with Paul, but still the older man can't help but to revel in the contact. 

Sadly Brian didn't have much time to appreciate the contact as shortly after they arrive in the cellar of the hotel. Al's single torch barely illuminated half of the room, the shadows long and dark, where anything could be lurking. The building was clearly ancient with foundations of slightly uneven handmade bricks and a large dusky fuse box. Al made for the crickety wooden stairs, the rest following in his wake. The noise from all their feet hid any other that there might be. 

When they made it to the reception it seemed as old as the rest, the decor looking mid 1800's at the best, far from the hip or chic hotels they'd been staying in. It seemed doubtful the place even had telephones. The good news was that hopefully, no one would think of finding them here.

There was a man at the reception desk that looked as old as this building, paper thin skin sticking to his bones that jut through. The only thing still lively about him was his eyes that were such a pale grey as to appear almost lilac. Al had booked them the needed rooms under assumed names, to which the man handed them over the four keys of their four suites. As he gave Brian his key he looked at him with those otherworldly eyes, "Enjoy your stay here, I hope you depart with more than you arrived." 

Brian was sure the man meant good memories, or at least he hoped. There was something about this place that gave him the creeps. Surely it was just the age of it, although he'd been to European buildings far older than this. Maybe it was the weather, they'd been spared it by traveling through the tunnels but a storm had descended and looked unlikely to let up any time soon. 

Of course there wasn't even an elevator. Thankfully there was a bellhop to take care of their luggage, but only one so it would take some time. The bellhop was a giant of a man, even bigger and broader than Mal but apparently simple minded, just nodding and grunting to them. 

Once Brian had made it up the five flights of stairs, he found that the suite for he and Al were large and spacious, with a common living room but then seperate bedrooms and bathrooms. That was nice at least. The rooms themselves were... old and looking on the verge of being condemned. There were countless antiques and even pieces of furniture covered in white sheets. He'd have to wait for his luggage to reach him, but then he could finally sleep.

For all that his body felt tired, his mind was restless and he felt like exploring. Perhaps it was the storm raging at the windows, the wind banging the rain nearly horizontal as thunder illuminated the sky. He thought his room was a good as place as any to start, lest he explore and get lost in this old place. 

There was an extraordinary barometer on the wall, it's setting made of carved wood that showed a beached mermaid. The mermaid looked almost alive, her face carved in exquisite detail, and chillingly her expression appeared to be one of agony, as though the sunlight was burning her sea dwelling skin. 

But that wasn't even what made it so extraordinary for all she caught Brian's eye first, no that was reserved for the labeling. The instrument normally labeled 'fair-vary-rain' had also addition labels and an additional needle. The one he was familiar with was appropriately firmly in 'rain.' The other had far stranger options like blest, without, above, below. And the needle was familiar in 'blest' whatever that meant.

Maybe it was best Brian didn't dwell on this, instead lifting the white sheet off of a nearby object to reveal a large looking glass. It was tarnished silver with a gorgeous art deco style frame. It was so absolutely captivating. Brian felt simply completely enchanted with it, and wanted nothing more than to stare into it for hours. Maybe he could buy it from the hotel, or maybe just stay here to keep looking at it. 

He approached the mirror, imagining it already hanging on his wall back in London. He lifted it as to angle it better when the frame bit into his skin, his hand jerking back at the contact. It was just a scratch but it had drawn blood. Brian sucked on his wound as he continued to stare at the mirror's reflection which was transforming. Pale smoke, the same color as the receptionist's eyes, danced over its surface. 

The image it revealed was clear, no more signs of tarnish, but it was not of this room or of Brian. It was a mirror's perspective into John and Paul's room. They were kicked up in the same bed, despite having a room as grande as his. Brian knew it was because the boys liked to spend time together to chat, but he couldn't help the hurt that cut through him. John was always very careful to keep Brian at arm's length, rarely touching or doting on him, the way he carelessly did with his band mates. Because John knew of Brian's perversion, and possibly even of Brian's feelings, although Brian would never act on them without any less than the songwriter's enthusiastic consent. 

Brian sighed as he watched his two boys, so clearly happy. They joked about that as they didn't have their guitars they didn't have to do any work. What a delight it was to nearly have a day off, because what would they even write about anyways? "Why a love song like always, what else would we do?"

"What else *can* we do?" John grumbled back less charitably. To which Paul agreed readily. They'd gotten so sick and tired of that, the touring, the fans, the labels, the way everyone treats them like prized ponies. Brian felt horrible listening to this, but unsurprised. Like he wasn't part of the problem too, controlling their image so tightly, but he just wanted what was best for them and the band. 

And then something that did surprised Brian. Paul 'joking' to John in a voice so soft he has to lean closer to the mirror, "At least it's easier for you, you're in love." Paul sounded slightly hurt inside, it wasn't John's doing that he was in love nor Paul's that he wasn't but it was hard to see others be happy or have what you want, when you can't have it. Brian knew that well enough. 

"There's nothing easy about being in love," John sighed defeatedly, he'd didn't sound like any man in any kind of joyful love. No this was the love of tragedy and heartbreak. He looked simply dead inside, like the hope and life had been snuffed out in him. "Especially not this kind."

Brian felt his whole body go rigid as he dare not breath. Was John impling what Brian thought he was, or was he simply projecting what he wanted to hear? Paul deflated too, "I know it would be hard, impossibly hard, especially with us being so famous, but don't you... think it could be worth the risk?" Paul, not always an optimist, but always a lover. 

If anything John only looked sadder as grief overtook his deaden face, "It would hurt so much, to have it, to know how good it would be." Brian could hear the tears in his voice as he got all choked up. "And then to lose it, the world tearing us apart." Brian couldn't be more terrified if a ghoul came from the rafters. How could- what else could John possibly be talking about but... homosexuality. 

So John was in love... with a man, a man that was not him. Brian's heart felt heavy in his chest like it might just sink through his lungs, cracking his ribs as it thudded down. Was it one of the boys like George or maybe even Neil?

"It's said that it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all," Paul's voice sounded small, like he didn't even believe what he was peddling. And certainly it's true enough that if the world found out John Lennon was queer, it wouldn't just be his life he'd be wrecking but all his bandmates too. 

John's expression easily conveyed his skepticism. "Easy to say when it's not your life. And it wouldn't be just this-" he waves about, "relationship. It'll be the rest of my life, a possibly death sentence, if not just doggily following at my heels forever." He looked down where his hands were twisting in his lap, "How can I ever love anyone that much?" 

But Paul wasn't cowed, at least Brian could be happy he had such a stalwart friend by his side. "Because love is worth it, he's worth it-" Brian audible gasped, happy to be alone in his room, he was right, devastatingly so, "And you are worth it. It's just- it's just like that crap in America towards coloured people. It's wrong, we know its wrong, and hopefully it will change in our life times, have you seen have the tides are turning? Because it's not right how they're being treated, and I hope one day it can change for you too, but until then you have to be the change you want to see in the world." 

John snorted at Paul's flowery declaration, "Oh yeah? You planning on hooking up with a black bird yourself?" 

Paul shrugged, completely unphased. "Sure why not. If one -any woman regardless of skin colour- were ever to cross my path that I loved as much as you loved-"

Brian was sure he couldn't be hearing right, because that just then had sounded like that name was his name. Well, not even his name, but the name the boys had given him, 'Eppy.' But there was no way, he couldn't tell, couldn't be sure, the mind can play such funny little tricks especially with the thunder booming in the distance. So he leaned ever closer to the looking glass, hoping to hear more carefully. Only it's surface was not there, and he came tipping through, tumbling out into their room. 

They were all astonished for a moment. More magic? But after the spy looking glass, Brian wasn't even that surprised, everything about this place seemed to ooze of the dark arts. Even so, Brian couldn't even really focus on that, witches or magic or even the undead failed to impress him compare to the confession he'd just overheard. He could do nothing but stare at John, hoping, praying he had heard correctly, that his feelings were indeed returned. John returned his stare, slight terror twinging in his widen eyes.

Which was how Paul knew their manager now knew too. All the bassist had ever wanted was for his best friend to be happy, and he knew that this would make him happy, even if it would be far from easy. The silver lining, if such could be said, was that their professional reputation as the Beatles had already taught them to hide away their loves even when they were birds, and as Brian was already a member of staff the press could barely say anything about those two being in each other's presence. "I'll just leave you to it," Paul said softly, rue to disturb the hush that fallen over the room. Neither John nor Brian acknowledged him, continuing to stare at one another. He left for his side of the suite, fingers metaphorically crossed that they'd get their shit together in his absence. 

John's fear appeared distant and Brian remembered what John actually feared; what the rest of the world would say, would do to them, for homosexuality still remained illegal for all that there was talk of decriminalizing it. But not fear of Brian himself, or at least no more than any man before his crush with a confession on his tongue. 

Maybe if Brian was a better man, a more considerate manager, he would pretend. Tell him he hadn't overheard, but if he had that they shouldn't risk it, pretend all of this evening had not happened, that he did not know, and encourage John to find love in the arms of someone else. 

But Brian was not that selfless, especially for something he had so long dreamed of and coveted. He would be willing to risk anything to be with John, and he could only hope the other man felt the same way. And that perhaps, like Paul said, in their loving, hope and daring, they could make the world a better place.

**Author's Note:**

> prompts: mirrors, secrets, anything with the staff


End file.
